Kiss Me Cowboy (Cowboys of Crested Butte Book 3)

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Kiss Me Cowboy (Cowboys of Crested Butte Book 3) Page 9

by Heather Slade


  “What can I do?” Blythe asked.

  “Bree will need your support when she gets here. Or when we go there; we don’t know what she wants to do yet.”

  “Can I talk to her?”

  “Of course you can, baby. Call her.”

  Blythe went upstairs to make the call. Renie went with her and sat on the edge of the bed.

  “I just want everyone to leave,” her sister said, explaining that soon after the commander of the base came to the door, asked if he could come in, and told her the horrible news, women she barely knew surrounded her.

  “Who are they?”

  “Air Force wives, and I don’t want them here.”

  “I think it’s better if you have someone with you.”

  “I don’t even know them. They’re making me uncomfortable.”

  Bree and Zack had only been at the base a couple of months before he was deployed. She’d met several people, as was customary as an Air Force officer’s wife, but—as she told Blythe when they talked at Christmas—she hadn’t gotten to know any of them well.

  “I’ll be there tomorrow,” Blythe said, not knowing how she’d manage it, but she would.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m flying out first thing in the morning. I’ll be there before noon.”

  Renie had stepped out of the room and met Blythe on her way down the stairs.

  “I’ll take you to the airport tomorrow morning,” Renie told her. “We’ll meet Ben there, and he and his dad will fly you to California.” Ben and his father were both pilots and owned a plane they shared.

  “That’s a lot to ask.”

  “Blythe, let them do this.”

  Traveling by private plane meant the journey from Centennial airport to the one in Sacramento, which would’ve taken her all day if she’d taken a commercial flight, took only a little over two hours.

  Shortly after they landed, Ben rented a car and drove Blythe to her sister’s house on the base.

  The next few days were a blur. Bree slept intermittently, and when she did, she had nightmares. Blythe slept with her so she’d be there when the bad dreams woke her sister.

  The Air Force made arrangements to fly Bree to Dover, and Blythe went with her. After they arrived, they sat at the airport for several more hours, waiting for word on when the plane carrying Zach’s body would arrive.

  “I’m so sorry,” she told Lyric when she had a minute to check in with her new boss.

  “Please, don’t be sorry. You have to do this, and I understand.”

  “But you just hired me.” Blythe figured this would be another in a long list of jobs she lost.

  “Blythe, listen to me. I need your help, but I don’t need it this week. Your sister does.”

  “I’m sorry,” Blythe said again, her voice cracking. “I can’t stop crying. Thank you, Lyric.”

  “I’m here if you need me, Blythe. I’m not your boss, I’m your friend. That comes first. Let me know what I can do, and I’ll do it.” Renie had said the same thing.

  “I have to go,” she told Lyric when she saw a uniformed man approaching her sister.

  “The plane is making its final descent,” she heard him say. “Please, follow me.”

  “Who are all these other people?” Blythe asked the officer as they escorted Bree out of the building and to the tarmac, when she saw a crowd of people.

  “The Dignified Arrival team, ma’am,” he answered as though Blythe would know what that meant.

  “Protocol,” he added.

  “What can we do?” Jace called Renie and asked.

  “I don’t know. Nothing right now.”

  “How is she?”

  “Okay, more worried about her sister, of course. They’ll be back in Colorado tomorrow morning.”

  “Tucker and I would like to attend the services, but we don’t want to intrude.”

  “I’m sure it would mean a lot to her if you were there, Jace.”

  “What did she say?” Tucker asked when Jace hung up.

  “She’ll let us know.”

  “This can’t be a game anymore.”

  “It never has been to me, Tucker.”

  “Me, neither.”

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but...” Jace couldn’t bring himself to finish his sentence. Here he was, giving up again. First Renie, now Blythe.

  “I wish I could be the bigger man here, but I can’t. I think I love her. I know that sounds crazy, but there hasn’t been anyone I’ve felt this way about since—”

  “I know,” Jace stopped him. He owed his brother, and even though Tucker would never know the real reason he was giving up on Blythe, Jace would assuage part of the guilt he’d been carrying around with him these last few years.

  He rubbed his chest, the place where it felt like a ton of bricks sat.

  Three days later, Blythe and Bree boarded the plane that would carry Zack’s body to Peterson Air Force base in Colorado Springs, where the funeral would take place.

  They spent the night at their parents’ house, and the next morning, rode in the car with them, while Zack’s family followed behind them. Several other vehicles were in the procession, but Blythe had no idea who was in them.

  They waited at the front gate, for their escort to the tarmac.

  “No!” Bree gasped when the military personnel directed them where to park.

  “What, honey? What’s wrong?” asked Paige.

  “No hearses. I said no.”

  Paige looked at Blythe, who shrugged her shoulders.

  Mark put his hand on Bree’s. “Honey, tell us what you’re talking about.”

  “I said no hearses.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” said their mother.

  The military escort led Bree and Mark into a building and upstairs, to a waiting area, while Paige and Blythe went in search of someone who might be able to explain what Bree was upset about.

  “May I help you, ma’am?” another gentleman in uniform asked.

  “I’m Paige Cochran, my daughter—”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he interrupted and put his hand on hers. “I’m Colonel Stevens. I was Zack’s commanding officer. You’re Bree’s mother. What can I help you with?”

  “Bree saw the hearse on the tarmac and was very upset by it. She kept insisting she’d said no. I don’t know what she meant. Do you?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I do. And it’s being taken care of.”

  “Can you please explain it to me so I understand?”

  “Bree requested that Zack’s body not be transported by hearse. Her words were, ‘he’s too young for a hearse, no hearses.’ We made arrangements for a Humvee transport instead. Again, at her request.”

  “I see,” her mother answered, her eyes filling with tears.

  When they walked back into the waiting room, Blythe saw Bree sitting in a smaller side room with their dad. He met them outside the door he’d closed behind him.

  “She wants to be alone,” he told them.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Bree asked to be left alone. Just Blythe.”

  Paige nodded and motioned for Blythe to go in. Zack’s mom and dad were also in the room, but no one spoke.

  A few minutes later, the colonel she and her mom had talked with, came in the room, and spoke with Zack’s parents.

  Zack’s mother put her hand in her husband’s when he turned away. He turned back, but he did not speak.

  “There has been a delay,” they overheard the colonel explain. “The plane should be arriving in approximately one hour. I will keep you informed as I receive further information.”

  Colonel Stevens left and returned again, before the end of the hour, to let them know there was another delay. The plane had not yet left Dover. This delay would be several hours.

  “I’ll tell Mom and Dad,” Blythe said to Bree, who only nodded.

  “How is she?” Paige asked.

  “Gone. Completely shut down.”

  “I’m glad you�
�re with her.”

  “Don’t be upset, Mom.”

  “Oh, honey, I’m not. I meant what I said. I’m glad she has you to lean on.”

  “When will Brooke and Tom be here?” Her older sister and her husband were in Germany, where he was stationed at the Air Force base in Ramstein. She knew, without having to be told, that the Air Force would transport them here for Zack’s funeral.

  “This afternoon. I told her I’d let her know where we were when they landed. Has Bree asked?”

  “No, but we all need to be together, Mom.”

  The colonel offered to take people to another building to get something to eat, but Blythe knew her sister wouldn’t want to go.

  “I’ll stay here with Bree, but you and Dad should go.”

  “Do you want us to bring something back?” Paige offered.

  “I’m not hungry, Mom. I’m sure Bree isn’t either.”

  “I’ll bring it anyway. You don’t have to eat if you’re still not hungry.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” Blythe turned to go back in the room where Bree waited.

  “Honey, did you want to say hello to Tucker? He’s been here since this morning.”

  “Why? Where is he?” she asked her mother, her voice almost a whisper.

  Paige pointed to where Renie stood with Billy. Tucker was with them.

  She wanted to walk to him, but she couldn’t move. She needed all of her strength, all of her energy, to take care of her sister. If she talked to Tucker or anyone else, she’d fall apart.

  Finally word came that the plane was less than an hour away. The protocol staff briefed them on what would be happening. Only immediate family would be allowed on the tarmac when the plane landed. Other friends and family would be escorted into the viewing room where Blythe and Bree had spent the afternoon waiting with Zack’s parents.

  Blythe held Bree’s hand as they walked outside—the scene, so much like what they’d just experienced in Dover except, this time, both their parents and Zack’s were with them.

  The colonel approached to escort Bree and Zack’s parents closer. Blythe, her mom and dad, and Zack’s brother waited behind them. The color guard and armed guards marched onto the tarmac and approached the plane where it had come to a stop. The door opened, and the casket, draped in the American flag, was carried down by more men in uniform.

  Blythe saw Bree about to fall before anyone else did, and moved closer. “Lean on me,” she whispered, trying hard not to cry herself. Bree’s sobs were almost more than she could bear.

  When Zack’s casket was moved in front of them, near the rear door of the Humvee, Bree’s sobs grew louder. It was the worst sound Blythe had ever heard. Zack’s father leaned forward and put his hand on the casket. His mother buried her head on her husband’s chest.

  Blythe squeezed her sister’s hand, and then let go. When Zack’s parents stepped away, Bree walked forward and laid her hands on the top of the casket and cried.

  The military personnel waited, but it soon became evident that Bree would not leave the casket. When approached, Bree shook her head and climbed into the Humvee after they loaded the casket in, and rode to the funeral home alongside her husband.

  As the cars in the processional left the tarmac and drove toward the gates of Peterson Air Force Base, every surface street was lined with soldiers, standing at attention and saluting as the Humvee passed. There were hundreds.

  As they drove through the streets of Colorado Springs, cars were pulled off to the side of the road. As they passed, Blythe saw many of the drivers had gotten out of their cars and were saluting, too.

  Colorado Springs was home to Peterson Air Force Base, Schriever Air Force Base, Fort Carson Army installation, and the Air Force Academy. Heartbreaking as it was to think about, military funerals took place too often in this community that was also home to many who had retired from active duty.

  When they arrived at the funeral home, Blythe got out of the car and went to look for Bree. She found her sitting in a room, alone with the casket.

  “What can I do?” Blythe whispered.

  “Bring him back,” she answered.

  More than four thousand people attended the visitation the next day. It started at two in the afternoon and did not end until nine that evening. Many who came, laid military coins or patches in the open casket.

  As a former Air Force Academy cadet and graduate of the prestigious institution, there were countless stories about his willingness to serve his country, his loyalty, his sense of humor, and his goodness.

  Blythe hadn’t realized that he’d volunteered for the Afghan deployment until she overheard someone talking to Bree about it. Even more tragic, that deployment was scheduled to end less than thirty days after he was killed.

  Blythe saw Tucker, standing not too far away, and walked over to him.

  “You’re here.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I care about you.”

  “But you haven’t talked to me.”

  “No, but I’ve been nearby. If you needed me, I was close.”

  He opened his arms and Blythe buried her head in his comfort. “I need you now,” she cried. “Tomorrow is the funeral.”

  “I know, sweetheart.”

  “Will you be there?”

  “I will be.”

  “Will you sit near me?”

  He pulled her into a hallway where they were alone. “Of course, I will.”

  She let herself cry harder, knowing no one could see her. “I’m sorry,” she said, pulling back.

  “You’ve been so strong for your sister. She’d be lost without you.”

  “Do you think so?”

  “I know so. I’m so proud of you, Blythe.”

  She let more of the tears fall that she’d struggled to hold inside. The stress of the last few days was wearing on her. She had no idea whether she was doing the right things for Bree, but Tucker said she was, and that made her feel better.

  The service at the church was standing-room only, in a building that held five thousand people. Blythe sat in the row behind her sister and parents, with her older sister, Brooke, and her husband. Several times, she reached out and put her hand on her sister’s shoulder, and Bree covered Blythe’s with her own.

  The casket, surrounded by the color guard, followed the single bagpiper down the aisle. As it passed, airmen raised sabers, one by one.

  After the pastor spoke, scriptures were read, Zack’s commander spoke, and one of Zack’s childhood friends read a poem written by his mother. The stanzas connected his deep reverence for the natural world with reminders that he was on the right path in his life and faith, and urged people not to weep for him because of his sacrifice.

  Mark was asked to sing, and when he did, Blythe thought it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard. Her father’s voice always brought her to tears, but this time, it was different. Usually she cried tears of joy when he sang. Today it was about sacrifice and tragedy.

  Every time people said Zack was with God now, or he was a hero for serving his country, all Blythe could think was that he’d left his wife, the woman he’d loved—the woman who loved him. Heroism didn’t matter, love did.

  Blythe had no more tears to shed. She wanted to go home and hide in her room, away from everyone, but she couldn’t. Bree needed her. Even though Brooke was there, Blythe was the sister Bree turned to.

  She raised her head and looked two rows behind her, where Tucker and Jace sat.

  Tucker’s eyes were red; he’d been crying, too. She wanted to look at Jace, to acknowledge his presence, but she couldn’t look away from Tucker. She wished he could’ve sat with her, held her hand, given her his comfort. Moments earlier, she’d wanted to leave alone, not see anyone for days. Now she didn’t want to be alone. She wanted to be with Tucker. She wanted him to take her away, comfort her, and tell her all of this was a bad dream.

  Blythe couldn’t take her eyes from Tucker’s, but when her mother tou
ched her arm, she turned around.

  “When will it be over?” she whispered.

  “Soon,” Paige answered.

  The colonel who had been with the family when the casket landed at Peterson, and at the visitation the day before, came forward and began a roll call of Zack’s squadron. When their names were called, each soldier in attendance answered. Then the colonel called Zack’s name.

  “Captain Fox?” There was no response.

  “Captain Zackary Fox?”

  “Captain Zackary Jonathan Fox?”

  That was Zack’s final roll call. His name called three times and left unanswered meant he had left his unit.

  The casket was being transported to the cemetery by Humvee, also per Bree’s request, but this time she agreed to ride in the limousine with her family. Blythe kept her arm around her sister as they walked to the car. When she stumbled, Blythe could not catch her quickly enough. Before she realized what was happening, Tucker was there, helping her hold her sister up, getting her to the car.

  “Thank you,” Blythe whispered.

  “Of course,” Tucker answered.

  Blythe climbed in with Bree and closed the door. Her sister fell against her and cried even harder than she had been.

  Shock was the body’s defense against the pain it knew it wasn’t capable of handling. When it wore off, there would be no choice for her but to work her way through her grief. Blythe never wanted to feel the things Bree was experiencing, but how did she avoid it? If she loved, there was always the possibility of loss.

  She and Bree had talked about it on the flight from Dover, home. Would she have chosen not to be with Zack had she known this would happen? If she’d known she’d lose him so young, so tragically, would she still have let herself fall in love with him? Would she still have married him?

  Yes, Bree told her. She’d do it all again. She’d loved Zack and wouldn’t trade any of her time with him even if it meant she could avoid the pain she was in now.

  Blythe doubted she could be as brave as her sister was.

  Paige and Mark joined their daughters in the limo. Paige took Bree in her arms and Mark comforted Blythe. She’d never been so thankful for her parents. She’d done her best to be strong for her sister, but she needed comfort herself. Did that make her weak?

 

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